The Trickster, Fate
by Indieblue
Summary: "Once more the turn of the seasons is upon them, the air has a crisp edge to it, and the vibrant, bright green leaves are slowly giving way to colourful, proud displays of reds, yellows and oranges: the scent of change and possibility are potent, tangible and clinging to everything it can find." Partially canon-compliant, but also not really.


**Hello hello!**

 **If this is the first thing you've ever read from me, then welcome to the madness! If it isn't then welcome _back_ for even more chaos!**

 **This story is very close to my heart because it is the first fanfic I ever wrote over...two years ago now, I didn't finish it, but there's about two hundred words in a doc that have been gathering dust for a good while now. So, despite the fact that I have many a WiP already, I'm going to be rewriting and reworking this when I can find time whilst juggling IRL responsibilities.**

 **I sincerely hope you like it, truly I do *hearts* I wrote it because I ran out of fics about this pairing and I _needed_ more. Either way, I guess it's finally ready to be shared with other people?**

 **Please leave a review and let me know what you think ;)**

 **My tumblr: indiebluecrown. tumblr. com**

 **Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and only the story line and any OC's belong to me.**

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Once more the turn of the seasons is upon them, the air has a crisp edge to it, and the vibrant, bright green leaves are slowly giving way to colourful, proud displays of reds, yellows and oranges: the scent of change and _possibility_ are potent, tangible and clinging to everything it can find.

'Twas the first of September, and Platform 9 ¾ was bursting with energy, bustling wix constantly moving around each other—some gave pause to cheerily greet familiar faces, whilst others gaze around in raw awe at a new world that had been recently made available to them.

One group however, seamlessly wade through the sea of pleasant faces that attempt to stop them for a natter and chat, avoiding the attention as much as they can: even after all these years, the man with the lightning scar draws the interest of many a witch and wizard.

The man scratches at his beard absently, running a hand over his long locks that are pulled into a low bun as he glances behind him to ensure all of his children are safely making their way through the crowd—all of which, save for his youngest, Lily Luna Potter, are pushing trolleys piled high with their respective trunks, school supplies and familiars.

Harry James Potter can't help but smile gently at the excitement vibrating from his youngest, and with a bittersweet smile he is once more reminded that in a year's time she too will be joining her brothers at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The Potter brood stop a few feet away from the train, and Lily Luna peers to her right where her Mother—Ginny Weasley, is smothering her eldest child in a tight embrace, whispering in James's ear what Lily can only assume are pleasant threats (James can be a bit rambunctious and wild, often causing a spot of mayhem wherever he goes).

Ginny is lithe, petite, and her soft curves give out to rippling muscle as she moves. Her long ginger hair cascades down to the small of her back, her hands are rough from scars and years of playing Quidditch. Freckles litter her nose and cheeks, her bright blue eyes spark with fire, and her light pink lips are currently curved into a knowing smile. Ginny is wearing a loose, thin-strapped, navy blue dress that cinches in at her waist—the large scars on her back and arms proudly on display.

Lily turns her attention to her Father, who is smirking down at Albus—his middle child—whilst he ruffles his unruly hair and tells him something or another; there is no anxious shuffling and worry on her brother's face like there was last year when he was bogged down in panic, and fretting about which house he would be sorted into.

Kindness and softness are thinly veiled by Harry's rugged and rough exterior—much like his wife his body is littered with scar tissue, but it is currently hidden by his black Auror robes, round framed metal glasses comfortably rest on the bridge of his nose, his bright green eyes alert and checking his surroundings every few moments out of pure habit. Harry had grown out his facial hair, but keeps it neatly kempt and contained, his messy raven locks are now shoulder length and he often ties them back into a bun to keep it out of his eyes—he was constantly muttering to himself that he needed to chop it all off sometime soon.

"Just because you can go to Hogsmeade this year doesn't mean you can go ballistic, try and maintain _some_ level of decorum," Ginny says, patting James's cheek affectionately.

"Decorum is my middle name," James replies with an easy smile, eyes dancing with mischief: James is almost a spitting of Harry's younger self with the exception of his warm brown eyes that he'd gotten from Molly Weasley, and from the rate at which he was growing he was likely to surpass Harry in height at the end of puberty.

Ginny snorts, narrowing her eyes at him, "just don't do anything illegal, and for Circe's sake, don't get caught."

A hearty laugh falls from James's lips and he leans up to press a kiss onto his Mother's cheek, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

James dashes out of his Mother's grasp just as she turns an accusatory glare in Harry's direction, "you gave him the map?"

"I got it in my third year," Harry says, all innocence as he raises his hands in surrender.

Ginny glowers at her husband, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she strolls over to her middle child, immediately fussing at his shirt collar.

Albus has his Father's hair and the same green eyes that are glowing in the pale light as he throws a sly comment at his Father, scrunching up his freckled nose in amusement as Harry tries to withhold the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Albus is also growing at an alarming rate and as a result he is somewhat gangly and awkward as his body catches up to his long limbs.

Lily is searching about for her cousins when a flash of blond hair catches her eyes just past her family. Her bright blue eyes widen slightly as she realizes exactly _who_ has garnered her attention: Scorpius Malfoy, the same boy her Uncle Ron warned her cousin Rose about last year.

Lily almost jumps out of her skin as her eyes met Scorpius's—pools of molten silver—but she musters up a small smile. The boy raises his eyebrow in shock, but nevertheless returns her smile warmly, only to break contact a moment later as he waves in farewell to his parents, before his hops onto the train and disappears from sight.

It seems as if Lily is not the only Potter to spot the young Malfoy because Albus asks, "Dad. Would it be alright if I invited Scorpius round ours for Christmas Holidays this year?" Lily smirks because she notes that he has _that_ look in his eye, a stubborn streak of determination that must have sprouted from the Weasley blood in him.

Harry's face contorts with conflicted emotions, "Albus—" he pauses, his nose wrinkling in thought as he recognises that this is one matter that Albus will not budge on. "If his parents allow it then—yes, I see no reason why he can't spend Christmas break at our house."

Triumph flares its way across Albus with his victory, and beside him James smirks, clearly entertained by the entire situation.

James detects Lily's gaze on him, and he instantly holds out his arms, welcoming her into a hug—the small girl rushes forward into his cozy embrace, a peal of laughter escaping her as he lifts her off the ground and spins her around once.

"Lu, you know I'm going to miss you _most_ right?" James whispers conspiratorially as he leans back to look at her.

Lily's own smile wanes and twists into a morose curl, "and I'm going to miss you…you promise you'll write this year?"

"I _promise_ , at least once a week," James swears, head twisting to look at his Mother who is fondly observing their interaction, "don't worry Mum, I'll write you at least once a week as well. I know how much you miss my blinding warmth, and how _cold_ the house is whenever I'm away."

"What's this about blinding warmth?" A voice asks from behind them, and they turn to find the source only to see Ron, and his two children Rose and Hugo trailing behind him.

"James thinks he's ever so charming," Ginny supplies, reaching out to pinch Ron's cheeks playfully—her brother is clearly not amused and scowls at his sister, but mirth quickly twirls across his features as he greets her warmly.

"It's bloody hot today," Ron says as he pushes up his rolled up sleeves further. Unlike Harry, Ron kept his hair low—often shaving it into a crew cut himself, but much like his sister he wasn't ashamed to showcase his scars, merely raising an eyebrow at anyone who pointed at the ones that wrap around his arms from the brains all those years ago in the Department of Mysteries. Eyes a dark but calm ocean as he scrutinises his surroundings, freckles splatter across his entire pale body, he is a man of great stature—taller than Harry—and he is of slim yet extremely muscular build.

"Where's Hermione?" Harry frowns.

"A massive incident in Diagon Alley earlier, Hermione got a frantic floo call from the hospital and she had to go in—she's absolutely gutted that she couldn't be here to see Rose off…her hair may have been sparking as she headed out the door," Ron explains, scratching at the slight stubble on his chin.

The child in question has her hands on her hips and is reeling off instructions, "James! Albus! Why are you not on the train already? We need to get a move on otherwise we're going to miss it!" Rose scolds, jabbing a finger in their direction before she marches towards the train—her trunk floating behind her—her short, honey brown curls bouncing around madly as she goes.

"Calm down, Rosie! We've got plenty of time!" Albus calls after his cousin. Then, just as if to further drive Rose's point home, Fred pokes his head out of a window, head toggling about until he spots them, two fingers shove into his mouth and he whistles _loudly_ at his relatives.

"Oi! Family! Get on the train will ya?" Fred yells, and Rose pauses just before she climbs onto the train to throw a smug look over her shoulder.

"Alright, I get it. You were right as always," Albus mutters to himself, rolling his eyes as he grabs his trunk, hesitating beside Lily and James, looking her deeply in the eye and saying everything he needs to, and then he's off for the train as well. "Bye guys, love you!" Albus hollered over his shoulder.

"I guess that's my cue," James says, gently placing Lily on the ground, and his head ducks to her ear, and for her ears alone he murmurs, "next year you'll be coming with us, Princess."

He stops to plant a kiss on her forehead before striding over to his things, gathering them up as he too heads for the Hogwarts Express, "see you guys at Christmas, don't wallow too much without me!" James exclaims.

Ginny steps into the space that James had just occupied, and there's a flurry of movement in her peripherals as Hugo settles in on her other side.

Ginny pulls Lily close, waving at her sons, and plethora of nieces and nephews as the trains whistle blows, and within moments it begins to move off—a chorus of last minute goodbyes come from all the parents, guardians and family members gathered on the platform.

Lily peeks to her left, only to be greeted with an enchanted, giddy expression on Hugo's face, "Lil, that'll be us next year."

Lily slips her hand in his and squeezes.

"Yes it will," she says, smiling to herself. _Yes, it will_.


End file.
